


Abstract

by KandiCryptid



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Austria's a bit of a jerk, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hair Braiding, Implied Crush, Neopronouns, Nonbinary Kugelmugel, Other, Sad Kugelmugel, Sealand is mentioned, Sealand ships it, Teen rating for profanity, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Ze/zir/zirs pronouns, very soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:07:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25815526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KandiCryptid/pseuds/KandiCryptid
Summary: While in the hotel lobby, Ladonia realized that Kugelmugel isn't acting like zirself. Determined to find out what's wrong, he pesters zir until, finally, he gets the truth.Then, as friends do, he proceeds to offer what comfort he can.
Relationships: Kugelmugel/Ladonia (Hetalia)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Abstract

With Kugelmugel beside him, Ladonia wanted nothing more than to run his hands through those braids of zirs. He had done it countless times before, and it had become nearly habit now. He wanted to feel every fine strand, wanted to twirl them in his fingers. He wanted to tease the plaits apart one by one until they fell loose around Kugel’s shoulders. He missed how the ribbons felt smooth and cool in his hands. Then he could braid them right back again, hearing quiet sighs as he worked. 

That was what Ladonia wanted to do.

He wanted to take care of zir; he wanted to show Kugel that he couldn’t get enough of zir, that he wanted to be near zir. Even if all he could do was play with zirs hair, that would be enough.

He wanted to touch zir. Even if it was only zirs hair, he wanted that contact.

Ladonia had never wanted touch before. The occasional hug was all right, if it was from one of the Nordics, but that was his limit. He had never initiated them, either—he had to be dragged into them, often with strings of protests.

But this was different.

When Kugel was beside him, he didn’t want to move away.

He wanted to be closer.

He couldn’t remember the when the first time he had done it was, but he remembers how. A ribbon had come loose, and ze had asked him to tie it back. It was a simple, innocent question, but it still made him blush. It seemed… intimate, though he didn’t know why. He almost refused, but then he felt that same tug again. He wanted to be close to him.

So he accepted.

He was hesitant as he gathered the strands, but he did it well, and Kugel had liked it. Ladonia had beamed with pride. It felt like an award of sorts. Then he did it again the next time, and the next, until they did it for fun.

Now he did it often, usually when one of them was bored, but also when they just felt like it. It was a nice, relazeng thing, and they both relished the contact.

But today was different.

Something akin to anger seeped from Kugel’s skin, and Ladonia didn’t dare touch him. He didn’t know why ze seemed so angry. Sealand had dragged them to a conference, which was normal, even though he wasn’t anywhere to be found. So Kugelmugel and Ladonia sat on a small sofa in the hotel’s lobby. Nothing was different than any other time.

Kugel had a blank sketchbook on zirs lap, which Ladonia thought was odd. Ze was always working on something.  
When the pen in zirs hand still failed to move, Ladonia cleared his throat. “So, uh,” he said, looking at the clean page. “What are you drawing?”  
Kugel hummed for a second before shrugging. “I don’t know,” ze murmured, just loud enough for him to hear. Ladonia scowled. It was odd for zir to be so quiet. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, scooting a bit closer, ignoring the anger that still surrounded him.

“Yeah,” ze replied. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”

“Am too.”

“Are not.”

Kugel, zirs anger now dissipating, giggled and looked at him. “You know, for someone who prides themselves on being mature, you can be such a little prick. You know that?”

Snorting, Ladonia gave a quick shove and looked away. “Well, sorry for giving a shit,” he said.

Had it been anyone other than Kugelmugel, that would have seemed like an insult. It sounded harsh, after all. But Kugel could see the way that Ladonia’s mouth curled up ever so slightly and the way his brow furrowed, making tiny trenches that no one but him could see. So, no matter the tone, ze could tell it was all in jest. Ze simply pulled the sketchbook closer to zir and looked at him warmly. “Don’t say sorry,” ze said. “You mean well.

You just don’t… do well.”

Ladonia gasped playfully and did his best to look insulted. “What? Me? You should know by now that I succeed in everything I do. Well, except getting you to tell me what’s wrong, apparently.” 

Kugel sighed again and stared the book in zirs hands. Ze took a deep, shuddering breath before speaking. “Is my art any good?”

A look of bewilderment crossed Ladonia’s face. This was definitely abnormal. He had never heard zir have any doubt in his art. Or, if ze had, then ze had never let it interfere with zirs art.

This was new.

And it scared him.

Gulping, Ladonia shifted to press their knees together. It was a small, barely noticeable action, but it seemed comforting nonetheless, so he kept it like that. “What do you mean?” he asked. His eyes drifted to the sketchbooks frayed edges. It was rare for Kugel to actually buy new books. Usually, ze was content with waiting until ze was out of paper and then refilling the spiraling with bits and pieces from god-knows-where. He had even seen newspaper pages in it before.

That was something that made those books so special. They were Kugelmugel’s. Not Austria’s, not Ladonia’s. They were Kugel’s. The books were nearly sacred with the amount of time ze poured zirself into them, page by page and stroke by stoke. But now ze handled them like they were dangerous.

“I mean,” ze started, “is any of it actually any good? I know most people just find it weird, but I always thought of it as eccentric more than anything. But now I don’t even know. I guess I thought that they had to be wrong or something. But were they really? Is my art just… bad?”

Ladonia had no words. He opened his mouth, but no words came out, no matter how hard he tried. He thought Kugel’s art was good. He wasn’t sure about Wy, but he had to guess that she could at least respect it. All three of them were artists, after all. Even Sealand would occasionally rave on them. Then again, Sealand could rave on just about anything.

When he finally found his voice, it was softer than he would have liked. “Of course not! It’s amazing, K. Those ‘people’ can just go fuck themselves,” he exclaimed.

“But Aus—” Kugel seemed to catch zirself before finishing, but Ladonia refused to drop it. 

“What about Austria?”

Ze said nothing, choosing instead to stare at the floor. It took a long moment for him to realize that ze was crying, and he could only sit stunned. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen zir cry, and it was getting to be too much too fast. It was one of the many times that Ladonia simply found himself at a loss, and for once had no idea what to do.

With no other ideas, he took to zirs hair. Immediately, Kugel let zirself relax into him, back against his chest as their breathing synced. Hands twirled through silvery locks and wove them into messy braids. Breath fluttered violet ribbons like flags in the wind.

But still, neither could help but to stare at that book.

“I see you’ve just refilled it. What is this time?”

Ze smiled cheekily, then whispered as if afraid of getting caught, “One of Austria’s music books. This one,” he said while flipping a few pages, “is from ‘Alla Turka.’ There’s some ‘Moonlight Sonata’ somewhere in here, too.”

“I would never have guessed. You painted over them really well. And that’s a huge complement, by the way, since it’s coming from me,” he said.  
Kugel ran zirs fingers over the pages, stiff from the layers of white paint that made them usable. They stopped in the center, and ze let out a heavy breath. “If I tell you what he said, promise you won’t get mad?”

Ladonia bit his lip. While he knew very well that he had a hard time controlling his (admittedly awful) temper, he also knew that ze wouldn’t tell him if he said that. So, he settled for a nod, a tiny bit of guilt edging at his mind.

“It’s really not even that bad,” ze began. “I don’t think he meant it. Not really.”

“That doesn’t make it any less bad.”

Kugel shrugged. “I guess.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you really don’t want me to,” Ladonia said, pulling zir closer. Anyone walking past the in the lobby had clear view of them, but he didn’t care. Not now. Now, all that mattered was his friend.

“No, I want to. I should. Anyway, so, we had a big fight and stuff. Not unusual. Happens all the time. But I guess I went a bit too far this time? I don’t remember what I said. Something about Italy, I think. Or Hungary. Or Prussia. Looking back, there’s a lot of options of ways to hurt that man,” ze said as zirs grin grew a bit more bitter. Ladonia held his breath.

“But yeah. I messed up. Then he goes on this whole rant on why my art isn’t art. Like, he said it was a quote-unquote ‘lazy, failed attempt at beauty that toddlers could outshine.’”

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah. And that just got me thinking, you know? I mean, what if he’s right? Most of my art isn’t anything. It’s abstract, but even more so than actual abstract artists’. It’s… weird,” ze said, returning to stroking the pages.

“K, we’re literally personifications of groups of people. Groups that shouldn’t technically exist in the first place. We’re decades old, but we still look like kids. I think we have the right to be weird,” he said. He thought about this. They were all weird, weren’t they? Especially micronations. They were a kind of paradox, an anomaly. They did weird shit all the time. It was their job.

“Plus,” he said, “I think your art makes sense.”

“Really?” Kugel asked skeptically.

“Yes, really. I’m an artist, too. I know these kinds of things.”

“True. Maybe I’ll just have to get you to help me one of these days. Having another ‘artist’ around would make things more interesting,” ze said, smile warming up once more.

Ladonia’s breath caught in his throat.

Did he want that?

Hell yeah he did.

“Sure,” he said. “I’ll let you help me one of these days.”

And that’s how they spent the rest of the meeting: curled up on a lobby sofa, Ladonia braiding and unbraiding silver hair in tune with every stroke of Kugelmugel’s graphite.

And, somewhere unseen, Sealand was squealing at the thought of his ship finally setting sail.


End file.
